Awakening
by skylight717
Summary: Six years after Voldemort's death, Harry, Ron, and Draco are all on a path of self-discovery. Harry, unsure of his sexuality, leaves Ginny only to run into a much reformed Draco, and the two are confused as they feel mutual attraction. But Ron's secret feelings for Harry and general horribleness threatens to complicate things.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**_Draco's POV_**

The eyes only see what the heart understands.

That centaur- I wish I still remember his name- told me that. And that moment was time and space ago, but somehow it always seems to hold true, wherever I find myself in life.

Oh, I don't have the energy to think about this right now. But I work with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and although I suppose there's nothing else I would want to do, this job does force you to think more about the world and its inhabitants. It's maddening sometimes.

As in, I'm currently sitting at a bar, and I really should focus more on taking somebody home tonight.

No, not somebody. A man, Draco. Don't try to deny that to yourself.

In fact, I live in the States now, working for their Ministry instead. And I must say, they have a much broader selection of gay bars here, both Muggle and magical ones. Since coming to this country five years ago, I try not be ashamed of my urges anymore.

That means it's been what, six years since the Battle of Hogwarts? They call it that, but is it too difficult to refer to it as the End of Voldemort? That's what it really was. But anyway, six years. Enough time to run away and leave almost everything behind. I still keep in touch with my parents. They ended up accepting me for who I am, but I don't feel the need to bother with anyone else.

I actually have enough friends here, and occasionally rather casual relationships. I speak in an American accent, and I fit in just fine despite my background. I like the way things are, at the moment. Of course there were things I would change. But I feel _alright_ for once. I can really say that, finally.

Which is why tonight, I'm happy flirting with some random hot dark-haired hazel-eyed wizard who likes Shakespeare. Seriousness can wait, can't it?

I can't believe it, this Rex guy physically reminds me of Harry Potter. Ten points from not Gryffindor. The resemblance makes me feel much less in the mood to do anything with him.

Well, despite being a jerk, Potter was always attractive, but let's not even go there. He saved my life, and I have to respect him for that. At the same time, I don't think we could ever get along. He was just never the type of person I'd want as a friend, not that I ever had a real reason to hate him so much.

I do still think about him occasionally, along with the rest of my class at Hogwarts. I wonder how they're doing, and I wonder if they still hate me. Most of them, including me, never went back an extra year for an actual year of education, did they? It's stupid, but I couldn't go back there- maybe they couldn't either.

That year afterwards was awful, it really was. I don't want to be reminded, but Rex asks about the tattoo of a bird spreading its wings on my forearm. Large and almost completely black, it covers the Dark Mark pretty damn well. But that's not what I tell him, obviously, I tell him it was to celebrate me graduating.

I take sips of my beer, talk, and relax. We later get up to dance. It's the kind of simple but thrilling night I was hoping for.

Rex and I exchange numbers, but I don't succeed in getting any further. I'm not sure I'll ever contact him, but whatever.

As I walk home, the words linger in my head. What I see now, what I understand now. That all along I was acting out of a need to belong, to be what everyone expected of me. I never wanted to kill, to make everyone fear me. And the obsession with pure blood- it's just a way to hate everyone else to escape hating yourself. Voldemort himself was a half-blood, after all.

Not that I've changed. I'm never going to be a nice person, and I don't mind that. But I have a mind of my own now, at least. I feel like myself.

Except I do have many regrets, and I don't think I'll ever feel free of them. But in a way I need the regret, to be able to be the person I am now. I needed a reason to change, I think.

Something feels like it's missing though, although I'm not sure what. I think about it as I lie in bed, waiting for sleep to take over. And then I realize that I wish someone would share this bed with me every night and morning.

I dismiss that thought, however, because I enjoy having the bed and covers to myself a little too much. Isn't romance overrated sometimes?

**_Harry's POV_**

I never thought of myself as a coward. I'm impatient, and I lose my temper, but I am not a coward. I've faced death so many times, fear doesn't hold me back.

So even though I was tempted to just leave a note and run, I let Ginny know we were over. I told her why, I packed a suitcase, and stayed at Ron and Hermione's place in the meantime.

I'm proud of what I did. But I wish I didn't have to live through her screaming after me, telling me I'll never find anyone else, demanding to know if I had ever loved her, using magic to burn all the pictures of us together.

I was telling Ron about it as we played wizard's chess, and he was beating me. Nothing new.

Not because I think Voldemort has anything to do with this, but because the group associates themselves with him."Yeah, she was always a little crazy that way," he says, in an agreeable mood.

"I liked that about her," I mutter. "And I'm sorry it's a little weird, since she's your sister."

"Oh, I'm sure she'll forgive me for giving you a place to stay."

I wasn't so sure, but I don't say anything. I'm just glad Ron is so supportive. I kind of need it. Hermione is being nice too, but she barely talks to me, and she keeps her distance. I can tell she's more angry with me than sympathetic. But she's not going to confront me yet, she's more sensible than that.

At dinner, I watch the way they are together. I'm jealous. Their bickerings are so gentle, nothing like when we were in school. They touch as often as possible. Holding hands, rubbing shoulders, sitting down on the couch right next to each other. Almost like they can't be broken apart. And the way they look at each other tenderly.

I don't think I had that with Ginny. We burned out so soon. Or was she right, was anything ever there?

I only take two days off of work at the Auror's department. When I come back, I immediately ask if there's any investigations occurring abroad. I'm told that the Americans want some advice about a group of self-proclaimed dark magic users who claim to be working for Voldemort. They've taken responsibility for a few recent accidents in a small town in New York state.

I'm immediately intrigued. I tell myself there's no way Voldemort could possibly be involved, but the group still associates with him. Why? And how much of a threat are they?

I'm quickly on board for this mission, and before long I find myself packing my suitcase yet again and apparating across the Atlantic, which was quite unpleasant.

I settle into the house I've been assigned. It's not very furnished, and I miss the comforts of my own home. I miss Ginny, and I shouldn't, but I'm so used to being with her.

This isn't even our first time separating, but it's the first time I feel like I'm never turning back. And I am upset, but I don't feel upset enough. I feel ashamed at the fact I actually feel quite... relieved.

**_Ron's POV_**

It's bloody good that Harry dumped Ginny. She's my sister and I love her, but he really deserved someone who wasn't a whore.

I would've liked him to stay over longer, talk some things out, man to man. Shame he left two days after he came.

I don't even know what I would've _said_. I don't feel right, you know? I should feel sorry Ginny's been dumped on her ass. But I don't give a shit. I haven't seen enough of him lately.

Is that... a bizarre thought?

It's just that, we were best friends for a while, and now he's addicted to his job. Could that have caused problems with him and  
Ginny?

Nevermind, he left her. But why? He never even said.

Hermione is pissed off about it though, for some irrational reason. She tells me it was "very very rash of Harry", and then goes on a rant I don't really follow. Sorry.

I love her, but the old bitch gets naggy. God, am I actually going to end up marrying her?

I was messing around with one of my employees for a while, just to spice things up. I was liking life that way, but she got too attached and I fired her.

It was really for the better though. I got some great ideas for what to do with Hermione.

America, huh? Harry's going far away for this assignment. Makes me curious.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Draco's POV**_

There's something special about this town. It's a tiny, isolated place, and there are hardly any buildings built within the last ten years. It's almost always windy and cold, and it's right next to a beautiful, clean lake. And most of all, it's a place that screams of dignified melancholy.

I feel connected to this place, and the creatures that live here. I feel comfortable, secure, and at home.

Consequently, when I see Harry Potter himself walking down the street, I have the vague sinking feeling that the world I've created for myself is being invaded by the world I did everything to abandon.

I try to convince myself it's not him, but as we approach there is no mistaking it. How in a million worlds is he here?

I start panicking. But there's no way to cross the street right now. So all I can do is force myself to look down at the ground, and I walk as fast as I can. Maybe we won't notice. I hold my breath as I pass him, and for a second I think I might have made it.

"Malfoy!" he calls sharply.

I don't particularly want to cause a scene, so I stop, and turn around to face him.

"Potter?" I ask, irritated.

My original accent returns unbidden, how funny.

"Don't just walk past me," he says, seemingly amused. "I never thought I'd see you again."

It _has_ been a while.

"Yes, I live here now. What are you doing here?"

I'm somehow extremely aggravated with absolutely no provocation from him. He has that effect on people... most people.

"I'm an Auror. It's a special assignment."

He's very good at pretending to be humble.

"I see, that's very fitting."

He certainly lived up to everyone's expectations.

"Good luck with that."

I turn slightly, intent on leaving, but Harry interrupts.

"Hey! Come on."

"What?"

At this point, this is tiring.

"Er, do you want to have lunch?" he proposes. "We should talk more."

"That is the most contrived invitation I've ever heard," I respond immediately. Potter doesn't react. "And there's nothing to talk about... besides the fact I owe you too much."

My voice drops. We're still in public.

"You don't owe me anything," he responds, slowly. "But if you did, it would be this."

What the hell?

"Fine, Potter," I relent. I don't have the energy to just refuse. "Whatever the hell you want from me."

He gives me quizzical look, as if he doesn't want me to believe he wants anything. But he definitely does.

"So where do you recommend eating? I'm actually in America for work related reasons, and I just arrived a few days ago..."

I take him to my favourite diner just a few blocks away, making awkward small talk along the way about my job, the safest topic possible. As we sit down, I firmly ask him what exactly he wants to discuss.

"A lot of things," he responds. "But for starters, it's about what I'm investigating. You're very coincidentally the right kind of person that would be helpful."

"And how so?"

I must admit, that intrigues me.

"There is a group of dark wizards in this area, and the British have been called for help, since Voldemort took over our country. But we don't have an insider like you, who knows the system of his followers."

I dreaded the mention of the mention of Death Eaters, but I knew it would likely come up.

"You know... I'm trying to get away from that..." I am interrupted as our waitress comes to take our order. I get my usual meatloaf.

"Go on," he says encouragingly.

"I don't ever want to be associated with it anymore, that's all," I respond coldly.

"Have you... er, had a change of heart?" he enquires, hopeful.

"It's not any of your business."

"But you said..."

"Look."

I roll up my sleeve and show him the bird. A peaceful, graceful bird. Soaring high, I like to think it could be escaping a cage too ugly and dark to be inked on my skin.

"I'll never be anything like you. But I wish I had known better about certain things. That's why I covered the mark up, and I went somewhere people wouldn't remember what I had done."

Potter simply nods, frowning. He _pities _me, and I loathe the feeling.

"The mark was still there though," he comments.

"Yes, a disgusting memento," I say bitterly. "But it lost its magic, at least, so even a Muggle tattoo disguises it."

"I'm sorry, Malfoy."

"Don't be," I retort.

I wish I'd never had to deal with him again. His facade of a kind, unassuming demeanor irritates me to no end. He's just using me for information. That's Potter, always playing the nice guy for his own benefit.

We don't say anything for an extended period of time. I take sips of water.

"So then, you don't want to tell me about the Death Eaters?"

"Not particularly."

"That's fine."

He sighs. I feel victorious.

"In that case, tell me about yourself," he says steadily.

"My life's not that eventful."

"Anything major going on?"

"I wouldn't say so."

Our food arrives, and it's my only comfort in this situation.

"Do you enjoy your work?" he asks, after a few bites of his veal parmesan.

"Yes, a lot."

I quickly tell him the story of my time in Iceland as an intern. It was memorable, both for how amazing and tortuous it was. The story seems to entertain Harry, imagining me in harsh conditions.

"Your turn," I tell him, not bothering to act interested in what he had to say. This isn't a date or anything. Although he makes that other man (I tend to forget the names of insignificant people) look like an ogre. Yes, I do find him attractive, but that is far from being attracted to him. At all.

"Oh, my work is mostly classified," he prattles. "But last week I... broke up with Ginny."

"You two were still together up until then?"

Not the most considerate thing to say. I can't help it.

"Yes, we were..." he trails off.

"Why did you break up?"

"It just didn't work out."

"That's very diplomatic of you to say," I say, taking a long sip of water. "What's the real reason?"

He runs a hand through his hair. It's rather entertaining, making him uncomfortable.

"It's hard to explain. We just weren't getting along anymore."

That's generally a euphemism for infidelity, not that I can assume too much.

"I see. So what about Weasley and Granger? They seemed... friendly, last time I saw them."

"They live together now," Harry says happily, but I can immediately see his envy.

"How sweet," I say sarcastically.

"It is, actually."

"But will any of you idiots ever meet new people?"

He laughs.

"Well, that's what I'm planning on."

"Unless you had a thing for some other girl at Hogwarts... Lovegood, maybe?"

I very nearly called her Looney, because I'd never called her anything different.

"No, we're definitely just friends," Potter insists. "She's not my type."

"You did take her to Slughorn's event," I tease.

"Not as a date!"

"Sure. By the way, what happened to Longbottom?"

I quiz him on several of our old classmates, I couldn't help myself. At the same time, I feel guilty for letting myself feel reconnected with the past.

But the conversation ends on a good note, and we're both full by the end, which is most essential. We're outside the diner, about to go our separate ways, and I'm fine with just leaving, but he has other ideas.

"Come on, Malfoy, we're not done yet."

"Do you really want my help that much?"

There are probably more reliable sources, after all.

"Every little bit helps," he responded cheerfully. "How about it, dinner on Monday at 7?"

I glare at him, and this time I have absolutely all intents to turn him down. But I notice his scar, only transparently hidden by his hair, and it hits me that he too, must have struggled to put himself back together again.

"You're very persistent."

"I haven't even gotten to everything I need your help with."

It would be satisfying to refuse, when he verges on desperate. But I _can't_.

"Alright, we can eat at the pub."

"See you then," he says warmly.

Why? Can someone explain to me why?

_**Harry's POV**_

Malfoy just nods and walks away, leaving me to make my way home and think.

I'm amazed. The old Malfoy would've never sat down and had lunch with me. He would've just insulted me and my friends. He wouldn't have been joking.

He's right though. Something about him- he's the same arsehole, in some ways. He's not hostile, and overall, he's so much better. I didn't expect that. What did I think he would be like? I'm not sure. I just hoped. And he didn't disappoint me at all.

I understand why he made himself disappear. But he could've stayed and redeemed himself, maybe in a big way. He just left. It's a shame.

Why do I want to talk to him so much? It's not only the things I'm currently looking into... I think it's also all the loose ends between us. I wanted to sit down with him and talk about that. Even if it would be awkward. But I never got to.

He didn't mention a girlfriend, or a lack of one. Isn't that something you would mention when it comes up? I don't know. Because I want to know more about how he is. Why shouldn't I? It's amazing that I ran into him completely by chance. I don't believe in fate, but times like these make me want to. Either way, I'm glad it happened.

Everyone wants to know why I ended it with Ginny. I haven't told anyone, and I don't want to. She doesn't even know the whole truth. Only I do. But even I don't completely understand myself. I'm figuring things out.

So for now, I'd prefer not to tell anyone about it. But it's a pretty obvious secret.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**_Ron's POV_**

The fucking second I wake up, I see Harry's owl tapping on my window. I look back at Hermione, and she's still asleep by some bloody miracle.

"Can't you _wait_ two hours?" I ask the owl as I open the window, my eyes blinded by the rising sun.

The owl is pure white and looks exactly like Hedwig. It's a little ridiculous that Harry replaced her with as close as a copy as possible, but if it makes him feel better...

I take the letter, and the owl doesn't leave.

"Oh, bugger," I say, taking a swipe at it. It doesn't react, and I don't actually hit it, so I fork over a treat I have in my drawer. It leaves, thank God, and I read the letter.

_Dear Ron,  
_

_How's it going at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes? I didn't even ask while I was at your place. I assume it was going well, but do you have any news? _

_The craziest thing happened yesterday. I ran into Malfoy! He's been living in the States these past few years. I talked to him a little, he might be able to give me good information, but who really knows? But he's really strange now, he'll talk to me but isn't exactly cute and cuddly. You would find him entertaining. _

The letter goes on for a little more, but my brain seems to stop at that paragraph. Malfoy? That git is alive? And Harry thinks we would get along? Not if hell froze over.

I know Malfoy was his arch nemesis back in school, but I'm not stupid. There was always some damn chemistry between them, and I don't understand _how_. Just the way they would look at each other, it wasn't normal. I mean, when you hate someone that much, it gets... Obsessive. I bet they've both thought about it, I'm not even being paranoid. Malfoy was and still probably is a sick bitch. And Harry loves that.

That's why he liked Cho, and Ginny, if I had to guess. They jerk him around. Why can't he just go for someone who's actually nice, and always there for him, someone that would work out?

Then again... Harry couldn't be gay. That wouldn't make sense. Yeah, my suspicion about him and Malfoy is twisted. I mean, maybe they would stare at each other intensely but...

It makes sense, actually. He left Ginny abruptly, and wouldn't tell anyone why.

Wow. Maybe, it could be. But isn't that just wishful thinking?

_**Harry's POV**_

Me and Malfoy are sitting at the bar, talking casually. That is, until I get to asking him if he has a girlfriend. He blushes, and looks very uncomfortable.

"What, is there an issue?" I ask, puzzled.

"I'm not sure how to put this."

He doesn't offer an explanation, so I throw an idea out there.

"You have a girl on the side or something?"

He shakes his head.

"No, I don't have a girlfriend. I haven't had one in a while."

"Really?"

Again he doesn't elaborate.

"I'll keep guessing then. You're too busy with work?"

"Well, I do keep myself pretty occupied. But just to be clear, I'm attracted to men."

He looks down at his glass.

"Oh..."

I don't think I've ever felt more like an insensitive idiot.

"Well, there's nothing wrong with that," I say, trying to act natural.

"I know."

I laugh, but the air is still thick with tension.

"I'm just letting you know it doesn't change how I think about you."

"Hmmm, are you sure?" he challenges.

I think about it, and I realize it's not true. Now I feel a thousand times more interested in admiring his features: his delicate, soft, rosy lips, his clear, pale skin, and my favourite of all, his radiantly blue eyes that anyone could just get lost in... I wonder if I have any kind of chance.

I quickly bring myself back to reality.

"Yes, I'm sure, why would it bother me?"

"It bothers a lot of people, whether or not they admit it."

"Well, you never told me if you had a boyfriend, either," I say, changing the subject. Slightly.

"Not currently, as it turns out."

Crap. He's gay and single and sexy. This is all too convenient. It's convenient I found him in the first place!

But I'm not telling him about me, not yet. About how I'm confused. He doesn't need to hear it.

"So Potter, how long are you planning to stay?

"As long as it takes. That's estimated to be two months or so, but you never know for these investigations."

Draco finished his drink and ordered another cocktail.

"You know, I don't even remember the last time I took a vacation."

I think about it, and the answer depresses me.

"Me neither."

"And the last time I went out on a weekday... was three weeks ago."

Seriously? I would've taken him for more of a party animal.

"What? You're mad. You need to have more fun, Malfoy."

"Most of what I do is in nature. I like to relax in my free time."

"This is definitely what I like to do in my free time."

Food, alcohol, casual conversation. Pretty much.

"Drinking all the time is a very British thing," he says, as if he's not from there too.

"And that's how you know it's a good thing."

He grins, and I realize how rare that is for him. And his smile is beautiful.

"It's not so bad here."

"I'm not so sure. I need to see a Quidditch game first."

"They're basically the same here, with worse team names."

I chortle.

"Too bad I won't get a chance to see one."

"You still have time in your life, for God's sake."

"But I want to watch a game sometimes soon."

"You're such a kid."

"Yes, I am."

We're relaxed, we're content, it's all going well. But out of the blue, Malfoy surprises me.

"If you still want my information about Death Eaters, we could talk about it."

"Uh, I'd like to but... why are you so sure all of a sudden?"

"I just want to get over it."

I hesitantly pull out my self-writing quill and a piece of parchment. I want to hear what he has to say, but I have a sinking feeling in my stomach about this.

I ask him simple questions. He answers. I try not to make a big deal about it, and he takes it well. He's calm as I question him about who got him started as a Death Eater, how the hierachy was organized, how often he got to talk to Voldemort himself.

The only time he gets emotional is when I ask who was in charge of him when he had a task to complete.

"Well, obviously, we could communicate with Voldemort if we needed to."

It's a relief that now everybody says his name, I think to myself.

"But I usually had someone guiding me."

"Like Snape?" I ask, and it's exactly at the point he gets upset. He looks distracted from the interview, and his eyes are wet. Poker face Malfoy.

"At least we all know he's a good guy, in the end," I reassure him.

"Yes," Malfoy said, his voice shaking. "Without him... I might have killed a human being."

He leans his face onto his hands, and he looks very... pained. I don't know what to do about it.

"But you couldn't kill," I remind him softly. "That's what matters."

"Maybe," he says shakily. "I don't know."

"Look, you can always wonder about what could have been," I say, keeping my composure. I'm used to interrogations, and right now I have to concentrate on the job. But obviously, it's hard to be personally involved.

"But it doesn't matter," I continue. "The past is the past, and it doesn't have to weigh you down. It's been long enough."

He crosses his arms.

"It's easy for you to say."

"No, we all feel that guilt. There are so many people I could've saved if I made different choices. And I can't help it now."

Sirius. He didn't have to die.

"Thank you," he mutters.

"I think that's all the questions I needed to ask. So I'm the one who should be thanking you."

Malfoy smiles wryly.

"I should really go."

"Yeah, me too."

We leave and to say our goodbyes outside, just like we did when we had lunch.

"It was alright talking to you, Potter. But just to be clear, it's not happening again."

"Why... not?"

I knew this would happen. He wants to erase his past.

"I told you everything you needed to know. You can leave me alone now."

"I didn't talk to you just to get information out of you."

Draco gave me a hard look, but it didn't phase me. I wasn't lying.

"Then what do you want from me?" he demanded, but still keeping his cool.

"I'm not sure. But since I'm here for a while... Can't we just be friends?"

Since there's zero chance we'd be more than that.

"We never were friends."

"But it's easier to get along, isn't it?"

Draco's lips curled into what I can only describe as a small grimace.

"It's nothing personal, you understand. I just can't."

I sighed.

"No hard feelings."

I do understand.

But Malfoy wasn't satisfied. He was frowning, as if not registering he won.

"I hope you time here goes well. And good luck."

He walks away for the second and last time. That's the end of that. I lost my chance.

I watch him go, for a few seconds. I should have grabbed him, spun him around, and kissed him. It doesn't matter that we're basically strangers. I should have given him a reason to stay.

Because now it's over, just like that, without a fight. All of the endless possibilities I thought of- they'll never happen.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_**Draco's POV**_

I feel terrible about it. I thought that after I answered the questions, Potter would go away. And that would make everything easier.

It's only been a few days, and the guilt eats at me. He didn't really deserve what I did. When I told him I was gay, he handled it better than anybody ever has. Not that there's many people I told.

That's not even it. I don't think I've ever met someone so accepting of me in general. He didn't event protest when I told him I never wanted to see him again. Which is all sad, because I don't like _him_so much, even if he makes good conversation. He always has to be the hero, even now. It's adorable, but it's irritating and it's arrogant and it's not for me.

There must be something wrong with me. I feel this strange compulsion to see him again, to break all the rules I set for myself. I shouldn't get attached to old things, especially if they're going to leave soon.

This is crazy. But I was staring into the kaleidoscopic eye of a dragon, and I thought of how Potter was in the Triwizard Tournament. And then I thought of all the other messes he was involved with.

It's not fair. He seems fine, after all he went through. He has real friends.

But this dragon's eye... It didn't almost look at me with some dull warmth, recognizing me, grudgingly accepting it needed me for its survival. The eye used to be trained on human prey. By some accident, it had been released and it caussed mass devastation in a Muggle town. It destroyed many homes and killed a few dozen. And yet our department cares for it, protects it from discovery.

We're all pitiable, in other words. And maybe we all have redemption, even if that extends to that redemption being forced.

I once heard that Potter even offered Voldemort a chance to feel remorse. I understand that so much more now.

Which is why I'm being crazy and stupid and using a tracking spell to find him. I'm confusing myself. Why should I bother to do this?

I know, deep down, what my motivations are. But I don't want to dwell on it, because it's complicated. Maybe some part of me is attached to him because of his significance to that period of my life. And maybe I just want to start things over with him on better footing, so things can turn out differently. We won't have to be enemies.

I'm scared at what could happen. Friendships with men are always dangerous, but this one is especially.

I'm relieved when I realize he's at his temporary home, and it's not too far from my place. I walk there, and it probably the definition of a typical suburban home. I walk up the path and ring the bell, and Potter doesn't take long to answer. I'm sure that he magically checked who I was before he even opened the door, but he was still surprised to see me.

"Malfoy. What are you doing here?"

"Just... saying hi."

He cracks a smile, which instantly puts me a little more at ease.

"Do you want to come in?"

"Oh, I don't need to. But I was wondering if you still wanted to see a Quidditch game."

"You mean the one happening tonight between the Sweetwater All-Stars and the Fitchburg Finches?"

It's my turn to become amused.

"Of course _you_would know about it."

"Hey, this whole town is talking about it," he said defensively. "The Finches' stadium is really close to here."

"But, are you up for it?"

"I wasn't planning on going alone, but since you're here..."

"Good," I said, and I could hardly believe how excited I was.

"But, uh, you still have to explain what happened the other night."

Great. This part.

"Well, I've changed my mind since then."

"Why?" he asks, gentle but insistent.

"I've just decided that it's... healthier to be at peace with certain things then pretending they don't exist."

I gave him the straightest answer I could. Well, the 'gayer' answer would be I'm back because of how wonderful he is. Maybe that's true as well, to some small degree.

"Okay. But don't change your mind," he says jokingly. But it still manages to scare me, that maybe I'm testing his patience.

"I'm not planning on it."

_**Ron's POV**_

The last letter Harry sent me, I sent some half-assed reply, biting back most of the things I want to say. Because I don't want to _say outright_that he should stay away from Malfoy. That's too forceful. But then I get another letter from him, and I want to kick myself for not being honest.

_Dear Ron,_

_I'm glad things are still going well. I should have known, you and Hermione have quite a posh place. I'm jealous, mate. I'm still trying to get a promotion. One day I swear I'll run this place. I like my bosses, but the egos they have... I could do better. You could do better, for God's sake._

_I really dislike this investigation. All these murders in Voldemort's name, it's unsettling. We get cryptic messages from this organization, and it's terrifying. Could Voldemort be back? How is that possible? Is this all just a ploy? I should never have done this._

_Funny thing about Malfoy. We're sort of friends now. It was interesting, we went to see Quidditch, and we were talking about how dirty he was as a Seeker, when I got banned because I attacked him, that kind of thing. I never thought I would get along with him. This is much easier than being enemies, at least._

_And here's when I told myself that I would make a confession. And it would mean a lot to me if you still were my friend after this, but I can't be sure. I don't know how to even start this... But you know, to explain breaking up with Ginny, there are a lot of things I can say. She was unpredictable, we fought all the time, she flirted a lot, she didn't make me feel valued, all that. The thing is though, none of those are the real reasons why we broke up. The truth is, I don't love her, and I can't love her. I can't ever love any woman that way._

_And Malfoy... he's the same. Except I can't tell him about myself, because or else... I think you understand._

_I'm sorry to have kept this from you for so long, I was confused about it myself for the longest time. But now I think it's pretty clear. You're my best friend, I thought you should know. I don't have any family to tell, but you might as well should be my family, you and Hermione._

_That's all I really had to get off my chest._

_-Harry_

I was right. But it doesn't feel good to be right. I can read between the lines. He's still attracted to Malfoy, just like I thought. And it kills me inside.

He complimented me, saying I would be a better boss, and he told me about everything that was troubling him, and it makes me feel amazing. But then he calls me family, and the rest is torn to pieces. Family. That's all I am to him, all I ever will be.

Why doesn't he see I love him? And I understand him, I could tell along what gender really caught his eye. I've always been there for him, and we've been best friends for over a fucking decade. He hardly knows Malfoy. What a joke.

At least that snake doesn't know Harry probably has a crush on him. But it won't stay that way for long, I bet. But I have to stop this before it starts. I can't let them be more than friends. I know it will happen. Harry's not even there for long but it's still going to happen.

What the hell am I supposed to do? Tell Harry I love him more than Hermione, so that he thinks I'm a sack of shit? And he won't believe that Malfoy is just a bitch either, Harry's too stubborn.

I can't have it all, then. I can't have my girlfriend and Harry and a decent reputation. I should forget about Harry then. Let whatever happens with him and Malfoy happen. Even if it means he'll pull away from me.

But, no. I'll send another nice reply. It's cool he and Malfoy get along, it's cool he's gay. I'm surprised Malfoy fucks anybody, but that's the worst thing I write.

I need to stop being afraid of Harry and Draco happening. Harry will come to his senses sooner of later. I believe in him enough.

I just want him to solve the case quickly and come back. I might even tell him. After all, I'm tired of living a lie. Maybe it's time to man up and take a chance.

_Maybe._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_**Harry's POV**_

I think I'm falling apart.

First there was that moment where we finally captured a member of the organization we're investigating. We gave them Veritaserum, and they blabbed aabout everything. How they did things in Voldemort's name because they "agreed with his aims", and to make us believe they were connected just to scare. How to lure the other members.

And because of that, the whole mission is now officially tidied up after five weeks. We went in, grabbed them all, fixed everything. My coworkers were all very satisfied, and we went out for drinks afterwards. Overall, not an unusual job for our Aurors, except obviously we did it ten times better than the Yankees could, on their soil.

Which means I'm supposed to leave tomorrow. And me and Draco are over. This time is over.

Secondly, I told Ron the truth in an owl. I'm waiting for his reply. I didn't tell him about how I felt about Malfoy, because I know he'd judge me. But I still need his support. If he's my best friend, I can't keep up a lie.

And then the two problems are combined into now. It's my last day here, and I want to spend it with Malfoy. And it's so tempting to tell him, too. He'll understand.

I told him this would be my last day, and all I wanted to do was walk around the lake at night and talk. He had told me there were always strange lights on the water only wizards could see, but I forget what they're caused by. We walk by the shore, and there are in fact strange glowing lights I marvel at. Hardly anyone is around.

"I'm glad I don't have to deal with Voldemort wannabees anymore," I say nonchalantly, easing into what's really on my mind. "But I kind of like living here."

"I like it too," Malfoy replies, smiling. I don't think he wants to be unhappy right now.

"Do you know _why_I like it?"

"Why?"

"Because of you."

He stops walks immediately, and faces to look at me.

"What do you mean?" he asks, alarmed.

"I think I'm falling in love with you."

I fix my eyes on his, waiting for him to say something.

"Why are you telling me this now?" he asks, keeping his composure, but he is still breathing deeply. I can't tell yet what he feels.

"Because I don't think I'm ready to leave yet."

"But you have to. So it doesn't matter."

"I could take a vacation, finally. I'm sure they would let me. But only if you wanted me to stay."

Malfoy bites his lip.

"I don't understand. Since when are you even gay?"

"Since I started to figure it out and I left Ginny."

"And you didn't tell me before?" he asks, barely above a whisper.

"I didn't think I would want you this much."

He looks terrified at that. Not even angry.

"Potter... What h-happens, if... In theory, I tell you I want you to stay here for a little longer?" he questioned hesitantly.

My heart pounded.

"Then I'll do that."

I move closer to him, just a few steps until we're inches apart. I take my hand and delicately touch the side of his face, letting him stop me if he wants to. This is the first time we've made physical contact.

"But I'd like it if you were my boyfriend," I whisper.

As I breath, I smell his scent. I'm desperate for him now.

But its him that reaches for my free arm and grabs it, pulling me until our lips meet. I close my eyes, absorbed in how warm and soft and perfect he feels. He kisses me forcefully, with just the least bit of control. I run my hand through his hair, and I can feel him stroking my back. He's taking me over. I can hardly think.

His lips leave mine, but we don't stop holding each other.

"Okay," he replies emphatically. "I'd like that."

I kiss him gratefully.

_**Draco's POV**_

I wake up, and for a second I forget where I am. I'm in a bedroom that's not my own, in a bed much larger than I'm used to. The windows are covered with curtains that let a good measure of light stream through.

And then I turn onto my other side, and I see Harry, peacefully sleeping. This is his bedroom, and I've never seen it.

He's Harry now. After last night, I don't want to stop using his first name.

I crawl towards him until my body is pressed up against his, my head buried in his neck. We're both completely naked, and I relish the feeling of skin against skin. I remember wishing for this, not too long ago. But I didn't even have a clue of how nice it was.

It's so ridiculous. For the longest time, that I didn't want another meaningful relationship, at least not with him. And it was all a lie, all a stupid lie I told myself because I didn't want to get hurt. But I've realized I'd rather get hurt than not get ever get what I want.

Because I know I'm probably going to end up hurt. This is has bad potential, for a million reasons. Because of who we were, and the fact this probably isn't forever. But I don't care. The moment Harry said he wanted me... everything I was hiding came up to the surface. And I couldn't miss the opportunity to kiss him yesterday. Stupid me, I shouldn't have waited for an oppurtunity.

I simply lie there, thinking for a minute. I begin to kiss Harry's neck, hoping he'll wake up, and eventually, I feel him stirring. I adjust so I can look at him, and I see his eyes flutter open.

"Draco..." he says in a groggy voice.

"Hello," I say softly.

"Good morning," he says, taking my hand and intertwining our fingers. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling _rather _good_,_" I reply earnestly.

"I didn't hurt you?"

I laugh. He's so considerate.

"No, I'm fine. But you've definitely done this before."

No virgin is that good. Slow, deliberate, teasing and knows exactly what to whisper in my ear. That's for sure.

"Yeah... Me and Ginny have gone on breaks."

"I see."

I have mixed feelings about that. It would've felt special to be his first, and I'm jealous of whoever it was. But it was less complicated this way.

"You know, I'm glad you stayed," Harry says,

"Did you think I wouldn't?"

"Most people don't," he says sadly.

I don't exactly know what to say to that.

"By the way..."

"Yeah?"

"I think I'll take a vacation too."

Harry's face lights up adorably at that.

"We should go somewhere," he suggests.

"Where?"

"Anywhere you want. Just someplace nice."

I think about it.

"That's a great idea, but I also like where I am right now a lot."

Harry chuckled.

"Me too," he responds.

He slowly traces a finger along my chest, and I feel horribly vulnerable. But I still like it.

"Do you think we're going too fast?"

I feel the need to voice my concern, to just get it over with.

"Hmmm."

His finger slowly travels lower and lower. God.

"I would think so, but we don't really have any time to waste."

He has a point, looking at me deeply, mesmerizing me.

"How long do we have?"

Harry now begins to run his finger up and down my spine, and I shiver.

"It depends," he says with a sigh, curling his arm around my waist. "But don't worry about it."

"I'm worried," I mutter, and Harry gently kisses my cheek, and the feeling of his breath makes me feel a little stronger.

"There are other, better things to worry about," he says evenly.

I don't know if he's referring to something specific. Or maybe he just means life, which is hard enough to get through.

"In that case... Just kiss me."

He immediately complies, and soon our lips are crashing together, followed by the rest of our bodies. A passionate, pleasureful struggle to become one- on many levels.

I have never understood these feelings. The boundless curiosity and obsession and desire for a person, the feelings that will slowly drag you towards the edge of a cliff until you eventually fall over in love. And I'm reasonable to be scared of falling, because without anyone to hold you up in the air, you're vulnerable to crashing right to the ground.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_**Harry's POV**_

Is there anything better than this?

It's been a few weeks of taking Draco all over the place for our vacation. I don't think I can get enough of it. Some places we go are magical, some aren't. Because over the past few years, wizards have mixed a lot more with Muggles. Not sure why, maybe because they're advancing so quickly. Their world has become interesting.

I have to be grateful to them. I'm standing at the foot of Niagara Falls with him by my side. It's evening now, and we've finished a day of activities in the area. Now we overlook the falls at night. It was beautiful during the day, but at night they flash colourful streams of light onto it. It's unique.

I don't even care if anyone has anything to say about us, I'm just happy. We're both leaning on the railing, talking casually.

"It's cool, isn't it?" I say, grinning. I turn to stare at his thoughtful expression as his eyes sweep the view.

"I suppose, but I'm not sure what all the fuss is about," he responds, unimpressed. "At the moment, it's just a massive gay rainbow."

I laugh. He always makes me laugh, without even trying to be hilarious.

"Where else have you seen something like this?" I tease. He has such high standards sometimes.

"Nowhere yet, but it would be easy to recreate it. It's just a matter of making that much water."

He breaks into a smirk. He's proud of his magical abilities.

"Well, I know I could easily do it. Wouldn't know about you."

I laugh. He makes me laugh all the time.

"Are you challenging me?"

He pauses for a moment, relaxing.

"Tonight, I'd rather challenge you to make other thing than water gush out," he whispers.

He did not just say that. I'm starting to feel aroused. Right here, right now, with a good number of people around. He's too good at this.

"Yes, it would be. But you slippery bastard, playing with words like that. I think we'll also need something to hold you down."

His eyes widen. He's so funny, being embarrassed about things he likes. Even if he always likes control.

"I like your ideas," he says, flustered. But he pretends not to be.

"Even this one?"

I gesture to our surroundings.

"Yeah. Even this one."

He smiles.

"It's not boring?"

"Not with you it isn't."

He tilts his head

"What do you mean by that?"

I always have to pry the explanations out of him. It can be a long and fun game.

"Well... You're dense and you overreact to everything. It's entertaining."

"Glad you like it," I say sheepishly.

"Hey," he protests. "I like a lot of other things about you."

"Such as?"

He elbows me in the rib gently.

"You know. Everything."

He takes my hand, weaving our fingers together.

'I love you," I say abruptly.

I instantly feel scared. I've been waiting for the perfect moment to tell him for the first time. Is this good enough?

"I love you too," he replies, not even taken back.

Feeling a huge relief, I lean in to kiss him briefly.

"And I also like _everything_about you."

Draco smiles, but it soon fades. He sighs and looks off somewhere.

"What's wrong?" I ask, alarmed.

"I've been trying not to think about it... But this is our last week, isn't it?"

He glances back at me, then away again.

"I know," I whisper. "But it doesn't mean it's the end."

"How? Long distance? I'll see you... Maybe every few days? Less? And then, how do we avoid meeting other people? Getting tempted? We're only human..."

Shhh, you're getting ahead of yourself.

"No, I wasn't thinking of long distance. I could... live closer by."

"W-What?"

"I'm serious. After being acquainted with the Auror Department in the States, I could apply to work with them. I think I have good chances, from what I've seen."

Draco looks uncertain.

"I'd like that, in theory. But how is that even possible?"

He just seems defeated.

"Come on, I can try. I'll go in and I'll file an application. It's going to work out. My boss likes me, he'll get me a transfer at some sort of position."

"Could that really work out?" he asks, dreamily.

"It can."

I don't take no for an answer. If I want something bad enough, I'll get it. And I've never wanted anything more in my life.

"I just don't want to get my hopes up," Draco says, his mood not improving. "It would be difficult for me to leave my job. I'm in the middle of several big projects."

"That's fine. Trust me, I can do this for us. I love you... and I have for a long time now."

Draco nods. By now, I've realized how much we think alike, no matter how different we are.

"But don't just live close by. Move in with me."

He's gentle, but insistent. Those things together will always convince me, but in this case, I have even less trouble accepting.

"I will. No matter what happens with my job," I promise.

Finally, Draco seems to cheer up.

"This is actually happening, right?"

"What kind of question is that?" I tease. But I know what he means.

"I had dreams about you," he confesses, scratching his neck. "And at first I thought it was for the best if you were nothing but a fantasy."

My jaw literally drops a little bit. He never told me. But I take it lightly.

"Awww, here I thought I seduced you. And I can't compete with a fantasy."

Draco smirks.

"You are definitely much, much better in person. And hotter."

"Why thank you," I reply proudly.

Soon we decide to walk back to our hotel, and I can barely wait.

"I think this might be the best night of my life, so far," Draco mentions shyly.

The answer immediately comes to me.

"No, it's better. It's the best night of _our_lives.

I love him, I love him, I _love_ him. And that's the one thing occupying my thoughts. We've come such a long way... And I feel like I _know_ him. We are a connection. A partnership. And I don't care how mushy he makes my brain, or how everyone says this is how you feel when you're in love. I want this moment to last forever.

_**Ron's POV**_

Me and Hermione talk about the future sometimes. Being old, having kids, the whole thing. And it makes me feel like complete shit. Because I don't want to be there with her. At one point I definitely did, but...

I've spent my entire life chasing her. Sometimes wanting to kill Harry because they got along better. How thickheaded was that? But I always wanted her. Opposites attract, you know? Like a balance.

And when we finally got together, for a while everything was right. She was my girl. We weren't the couple that had dopey happy expressions on all the time and couldn't not talk about the other one for five seconds or anything stupid. We had a fucking_life_with each other, not some perfectly cut lie. It was up and down but it held together and we had... I dunno, passion?

But it all had to change. When I was 19, I almost died . It was a bloody awful experience.

I... don't want to think about how or why it happened. The only things that matter are that Harry was there for when Hermione wasn't, and I haven't been the same since.

What has changed about me? How the hell can I know, exactly? All I know is I stopped loving her. And I woke up and saw Harry in a new way. And I haven't been able to really enjoy anything since.

Yesterday, I got another brutal letter from him, actually. He and Malfoy are together, travelling the world on vacation.

I'm beyond disgusted. The went down the worst possible road, the one I suspected all along they would go down. And I got to hear about it, step by step. This is just _great_.

People say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, but it's all a lie. After everything, I'm just a bitter old fool. A fool who can't give up what they've lost.

It's time, I think. To do something. Because I can't stand the way things are anymore. I won't take it.

While I'm in my office having lunch, I try to cast a tracking spell. Blast it, Harry's too far away. But I quickly think of something from him I might have, and then I remember.

I summon it from my home, and soon it's in my hands... His shirt. He forgot it before going to the States. Left behind just like me. I run my hands through it slowly, and bury my face in it. This is what he smells like...

And this is what's going to help me find him. I don't know what the hell I'll do when I find him- but something. I just need to talk to him. And I'll do anything that will turn this around.

Absolutely anything.


	7. Chapter 7

**Yes, I love Kelly Clarkson to death, but her songs actually ended up in that last chapter pretty unintentionally. But looking back... creds to "A Moment Like This" and "Stronger". **

**This chapter made me sad! But here we go.**

**Chapter 7**

**_Ron's POV_**

I found him.

My spell took me all the way to a hotel in Paris. Cute, they're staying at the city of love. I'm pissed off when I realize it'll probably be hard to get him alone. So I just do what we've always done: I send an owl.

_Harry,_

_We need to talk. Meet me in front of the Eiffel Tower tomorrow at 4 in the afternoon._

I chose the Eiffel Tower because that's the only place in this damn city I know about.

Sleeping is almost impossible as I imagine how our conversation will go. 4 'o clock takes forever to come around but eventually, it happens. When he comes late, a part of me wonders if he'll show, but he does. I'm sitting at a park bench, and I don't try to pretend I'm not upset.

He greets me, says he's glad to see me, and sits down next to me once he notices I'm barely talking.

"Ron, what the hell is going on?" he asks bluntly. "You didn't reply to my last letter, and I was wondering if you didn't want to be friends anymore. But then this comes up out of the blue."

"It's about Malfoy," I say smoothly.

"What do you mean?" he asks, icy. "Is there a problem?"

"As a matter of fact, there is," I say, rage boiling up within me.

I start imagining why he was late. How Draco must've been keeping him, controlling him.

"I know you must still have a grudge against him-"

"Just a grudge? Are you _kidding_ me? How do you not remember all the times he made fun of us?"

"I do remember. but he's changed now," Harry insists.

I want to scream at him to stop being such a fool.

"People can't change that much, Harry! He was an arse his entire life, what's different now?"

"You wouldn't understand what he's gone through."

"Because I'm not a son of a bitch!"

Harry flinches, but it's not him I'd like to punch in the stomach.

"Maybe you are sometimes," he says in a low voice. "Like right now."

That hurts. But it reminds me I should be giving him reasonable advice.

"I am just telling you, as a friend, that you're getting yourself in a lot of trouble. He might be nice now, but down the line, who knows what he's going to do?"

"Goddammit Ron, you're not my mother. It's not your decision who I date! And if you would just see Draco, or talk to him... You would change your mind!"

"No," I say, shaking my head. "You don't understand."

"What don't I understand, exactly?"

He's reaching his limit. With _me_. And I want to just end this all and tell him I love him, but the words just won't come out. I sputter for a second.

"Uh- Harry- Look. I wish I could just be happy for you, but I can't. I don't want you to date him. It might not be my place to tell you what to do- but you should seriously listen to me right now."

Harry inhales sharply.

"Why? You make no fucking sense."

He glares at me intensely, and I can't help think how hot that is. But at this point I'm absolutely desperate. I grab his shoulder and force my lips on his.

For a second, everything falls into place. I feel like he's finally with me, after so long. He's breathing and he's perfect and he's mine.

But that's just for a second, because a second later I feel him push me roughly.

"What the hell was that?" he asks, quickly getting on his feet. I do too.

"That's why," I say, numb at this point.

Harry looks at me like I'm despicable. Why do I keep getting myself into things I know will end badly?

"How can you do this to Hermione? How can you?" he demands, and I don't know what to say.

"This isn't a choice. I wish I didn't feel like this," I say, anguished. "But it's the way this is."

"I guess so. In that case, get out of my fucking life. I don't need you."

He storms off, and I would follow him, but we've already made a scene, and a small crowd seems to be watching us.

Right away, I can feel myself crying. I wipe my eyes and only walk away for a second before running shamelessly. I need to find a place I can apparate from. I need to get out of here.

He's going to tell Hermione. So I've lost everything.

_**Draco's POV**_

Harry comes back to the room. I'm reading, sprawled on the bed. Harry sluggishly sits on the edge of the mattress next to me. I look up at him, and I can tell something's wrong.

"Baby, did something just happen?" I ask, trying to be casual.

"Yeah, kind of," he snaps. But I forgive him for that, he seems so distraught.

"As in...?"

"Well, I don't think I'll want to be talking to Ron ever again."

"I can't say that bothers me too much, except for the fact it must upset you. But what exactly _happened_?"

"He... uh..."

I immediately sit up and stare at him.

"What did he do?"

"He started off by just saying you were a jerk and we shouldn't date, which pissed me off a lot. But then he kissed me and I guess he's into me and... I'm sorry. And I'm sorry for snapping at you."

"Okay then," I reply, rather dazed.

For a moment neither of us has anything to say.

"It _is_a good reason to stop being friends with him..." I trail off.

"Yeah, definitely," he says, his voice wavering. He swings his legs over and lies down next to me.

Without any warning whatsoever, he begins to sob, the first time I've seen him do so. Unsure of what to do, I wipe away his tears and let him bury his head in my chest. I wrap my arms around him, not that I'm good at comforting people.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to do this for me," I tell him, as feelings of guilt feel like they're squeezing around my throat.

"I would do a lot more for you. And you would do the same," he whispers, choking back his tears.

He has faith in me. But it's still my fault, what happened.

"But it's not like I wanted to come between you and your best mate."

Harry breaths, and he manages to restrain his emotions momentarily. His voice reaches a rare point of clarity, like a solemn epiphany.

"I'm not sure I could have ever chosen Ron, even without you. He's just... Ron."

"I'm still sorry. I know it's not easy for you."

As if to prove my point, Harry nestles himself even tighter into me, shaking as his crying only worsens.

"He'll come around," he says, his words hardly intelligible. "But for now... You're still here. And we're moving in together."

Thinking of our future together makes my heart feeling like its swelling in content, overflowing in satisfaction. But a feeling of foreboding nags at me, also.

Today, for the first time, I have serious doubts about the two of us. Even though right now we're not having some petty argument or a difficulty we have to face together, I'm scared of all the sacrifices we're making for each other. No, the sacrifices _he's_ making for me. I'm ripping up his life as he knows it, and if we ever break up- can he reverse the changes? So much more hangs in the balance now... And it's been such a short time with him. What if, down the line, the spark somehow dims?

"Yes... look how far we've come," I say, and I can remember how different I was before we met again.

Harry nods.

"You make me a better person. A more free person."

I run my fingers through this thick, luscious hair. He never has to say too many pretty words, I know what he means. I know how over time, he's become more secure with who he is, his relationship isn't a lie anymore.

"Thank you," I whisper, hoping he might understand how he's changed me too. But right now, I don't want to say it.

But I think about our flaws, that we haven't changed yet. The flaws in our love. But our imperfect love is also addictive, and that makes it unstable.

Despite the morose thoughts coursing through me, my desire burns for him. I begin to move against him, slowly, tugging at his clothes.

"I love you," I pronounce. It's our favorite phrase to say, and it's never lost its meaning.

"I love you too. More than anything."

He begins to move with me, and we slowly undress each other, savoring every moment. And we are naked before long. By now I have memorize his body, every tuck and curve of it. How he's shorter, more muscled, an tanner than me, which fascinates me.

Our time in bed is exquisite, but it still cannot drive all my negative thoughts out. As we lie there, exhausted, gasping for air, I remember that this is the best an worst phase of a relationship. Falling in love is easy, but when that love becomes everything to me... You can experience a thousand more delights, but your love has complete control over you, and the capacity for it to hurt you is enormous. All you can do is resign yourself to it, but that's difficult for me. It's hard to trust that someone won't break your heart.

But this will not be like other times. Harry is special. And for him, I'll let my guard down. That's the only way for love to last.

Harry Potter: I'll admit, I'm terrified of what can happen. And I feel pain for the friend I made you lose. But I'm not anywhere close to giving up.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_**Harry's POV**_

I was thinking I should break it to Hermione that her fiance isn't _exactly_ committed to her. I completely dreaded doing that. After me and Draco got back from dinner, I sent an owl. I asked how things were doing, and I told her that Ron had visited and said something disturbing, that we needed talk about it.

When I got her reply the next day, I was first relieved. But it wasn't good news, either.

_Dear Harry,_

_I appreciate you contacting me so soon, but I already know what you're going to tell me._

_I've actually Ron's affairs for quite some time now. After he came home quite late yesterday, I confronted him because he smelled like some expensive, musky perfume._

Shit. Most likely my cologne. Draco always says I put too much on.

_I confronted him about it, and at first he denied everything I made him take his things and suggest he home go to his mother's. __And long story short, I also managed to get George to fire Ron. He was always a terrible business partner, apparently.  
_

Hermione's always been great at implying how she feels without ever telling you.

_By the way, give Malfoy my regards... Am I still 'Mudblood'? One day I should visit._

I flick my eyes over at Draco, who's tidying up the room a little. And I wonder what the two of them meeting would be like...

_Sincerely,_

_Hermione_

I smile. I should've known before that she was too smart to have never suspected a thing. But I mostly feel awful for Ron. He's out of his home, has no job, and everybody kind of hates him now.

But the way he felt it was his right to get between me and Draco, and that kiss... I can't accept someone who does that. Last night, when Draco and I went to bed, he asked me if I was okay. And I made sure he understood that someone who does those things isn't someone I would want to be friends with in the first place.I'm not happy about it, but I have no choice but to cut Ron loose.

It's not Draco's fault at all. He should stop thinking it is. And... we're moving in together. I can't even say how excited I am.

Maybe he'll get annoyed at how messy I am, but still. I have a good feeling about this.

_**Ron's POV**_

It's been a few months since I last talked to Harry. But that doesn't mean I haven't been keeping tabs on him. Being on different continents won't stop be anymore, nothing will.

I tracked Harry again, and I found him living in Malfoy's house. Of course Malfoy made Harry move in. He can't compromise, he needs to have _his_ way. But I knew it already.

I just watch and listen, sometimes. When I hear them fucking or having arguments, I know I could do better.

It's thanks to Hermione I don't work at the store anymore. I don't resent her too much. It was bitch move, but it was so expected from her.

I only held onto her because I was scared of change. When you're with someone for so long, things tend to revolve around them. It's hard not to include them anymore. You get used to the slavery.

I'm glad to have gotten rid of her. The best part is, I let her do it. Maybe she'll feel guilty when no other guy is willing to put up with her shit.

She was wrong. I didn't need to go back to my mother's. That would've sucked anyway, seeing as now my entire family hates me. I had cash saved, but I didn't even need that much of it. At the right place, if you're lucky, you can make a lot of money selling yourself on a pole.

I like acting like a slut. It's not me, but it feels good to just release that part of me, for once in my life. I like the humiliation. I like guys looking at me, wanting me. Even if I'm not so sure about what the hell I'm getting into.

Do I know what I'm doing anymore? No, not really. I've lost control a little. I can't help it. Not after losing so much. It almost makes you lose a bit of yourself. Of your dignity.

It's not like I want to feel like this. So _attached_ to things. Like I can't let anything go. But I can't help it, because I know I'm right. I know my love for Harry is real, and I know Malfoy is physically incapable of love. It would be easier, but it wouldn't be better. At all.

I can't help myself from thinking of all these plans. For me and for Harry and some not so sweet things for Malfoy.

This is all rather familiar in some ways. It's like that time when I was 19 and nearly died. That time when I tried to kick the bucket, and I got interrupted. It was all hopeless then, too. But now I know not to do that now.

I'm not the one who needs to drop dead sometime soon.

So after I kept thinking of possible plans, I actually began to make a sure one, that's absolutely thought out and foolproof. It's funny. I've never been much of a studier. But all of a sudden, I spend all of my free time researching for this. I try to make the same potion, over and over again. I practice different spells until they go right. And I finally feel ready.

I just don't know when I should...

It's a little past midnight, and I know I can't sleep anymore. I'm too impatient. So I pack a small bag, go over to their house, and I get to work.

I begin to chant incantations out of some crumbly book, since I couldn't memorize everything. And I'm slowly taking down the protective enchantments that they have, like normal wizards. I also make sure we won't be I stop. I know I could turn back now. I could live in peace.

But of course, I can't. I slowly cast a spell of calming over the house. I put all my strength into it, making sure it's as strong as possible. It's difficult to cast, but I manage eventually. And now it's time to get this party started.

It's all a blur as I unlock their door, looking around for the bedroom. When I find it, I wave my wand and the lights are on. Nonverbal spells are so useful, it's sad I never got the hang of them in school.

They both wake up, but without any energy. Poor fools don't know what's going on. The spell worked.

"Ron?" Harry calls out, reaching for his glasses on the bedside table. But he can't quite reach.

"Hello," I reply, furious as I notice Malfoy inch closer Harry. He has a blank expression, for once his stupid smirk being wiped off his ugly face.

"It's you!" Harry exclaims softly before yawning.

"Yes, what are you doing here...?" Malfoy questions, weakly pointing at me. Harry looks at him, nodding in agreement.

I want to fucking_ puke _at the way Harry looks at that bag of shit. It's not the way he looks at me... But I wish it was.

"Just here to..." I begin.

The spell will wear off soon. I can't keep talking.

"Well, here to do this."

I wave my wand, and Malfoy is lifted off the bed.

"Hey!" Harry protests, not very energetically.

I flick my wand, and the bitch is flung against the wall.

"Ah-" he cries in pain, sliding down to the floor until he's lying down, unconscious. I smile.

At that, Harry breaks through my spell, sitting up and pointing his wand at me. But he's still too confused, he doesn't know what to do.

I interrupt him with a nonverbal Disarming Charm, which I then blast at Malfoy so both are defenceless. I quickly cast _Incarcerous_, and I tie Harry to the bed. Then I remember Malfoy needs similar treatment. I wrap him with ropes from head to toe.

"What the fuck, Ron!" Harry yells, struggling, no longer the least bit calm. I silence him.

I walk over to Malfoy, crouching down to his level. I slap him straight across the face. About time he got what was coming to him. He stirs, and I hit him again until he wakes up, wincing in pain.

"Why are you here?" he repeats, but this time defiantly. "For revenge?"

"It's a lot more than petty revenge," I reply. "This is everything to me."

"This...? What is it that you even want?"

"I love Harry," I said, looking back towards him briefly as he tries to get out of his bindings more than ever. "And I want him."

"You don't love him, you're just obsessed with him," Malfoy retorts.

"You don't know _anything_."

"True. I'm not really sure if you're going to kill me or not," he replies with contempt.

I was right. He hasn't changed. I stand up, and utter a single word.

"_Crucio_."

The minute the spell's light hits him, he starts thrashing around violently, flopping around like a fish out of water. His screams are high and piercing, completely pathetic.

"Ron, stop it!" Harry protests, breaking through his silencing.

I do stop, and I relish seeing Malfoy gasping for air.

"You two behave, alright?"

I tighten both of their bonds.

"Because I'm not afraid of hurting you," I tell Malfoy quietly.

"Ron, you have to talk to me. What's going on with you?" Harry demands.

I walk over to him, and sit on the bed.

"Have you told Malfoy? About that time when you had to _talk_ to me?" I ask calmly.

I stare at Malfoy, who looks confused.

"I haven't," Harry confirms.

"Then you should tell him."

I didn't expect this to be brought up. But I don't mind discussing how Harry saved my life. Malfoy might just understand.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

_**Harry's POV:**_

Ron orders me to tell the story, but I can't. My body is consumed by panic, and I can't find the right words. My heart is pounding out of my chest, my breathing is ragged, and my head is swirling as I try to take control of my overwhelming fear.

This is not happening. I look at Draco desperately, and for the first time he's able to return my stare. The corners of his mouth twitch, as if telling me he's alright, despite the red mark on his face. For now.

"Come on, Harry..." Ron chides, pointing his wand back at Draco.

I get it. I need to stall.

"I thought you were better now. It's been such a long time, and you've been getting help."

Ron motions to continue. He's making me tell the whole story.

"Ever since...four years ago, when you bought some potion and you tried to kill yourself," I say, my voice rising. I feel too many emotions, between him and Draco.

"Yep, pretty much. Do you remember finding me?" Ron asks, not bothered in the least.

Malfoy's eyes are wide. I never told him, I would never betray Ron's secret.

"You were on the floor..." I say, chocking up as the image floods back. "So I shook you awake."

"But there was no bezoar to shove down my throat this time..."

Why is he so _cold_?

"You had the hottest fever..." I begin.

That's ironic. But it's not even funny.

"And you could barely talk to me. I was screaming at you, asking what you did to yourself... It was the last thing I expected. I thought you were fine."

The story is slowly winding itself out of my throat.

"So I did what I could, and took you to St. Mungo's."

I finally take a deep breath and calm myself. I look at Draco again, who has a pitying expression.

"I barely survived," Ron comments matter-of-factly. "And while I was recovering, I explained things to you."

"I'm sorry I couldn't see you were so miserable. You and Hermione had broken up a while before, and your mom passed away..."

Ron shook his head.

"It's not that simple."

He suddenly begins glaring at Draco, and my fists clench.

"You have a tiny bit of a brain, don't you, Malfoy," Ron spits. "So I'm sure you at least kind of see why I need Harry. He was always there for me, and it was thanks to him I got through. And he's the _only_ person that ever gave a shit about me. "

"That's not true," I protest.

"No, I do understand," Draco says in a croaky voice. "And now you want him all to yourself?"

Ron grins.

"Uhuh. Glad to see you're catching on. You realize you're not needed."

"You bastard," Draco mutters. "You're out of your fucking mind."

"Again, _Crucio_."

I see Draco's body spasm as he cries out in agony. And Ron is just sitting back and relaxing.

"No!" I scream.

Ron releases him from the spell, and I can tell this attack was even more vicious than the last.

Draco is whimpering, and my I feel sick.

"Draco..." I call out, to no answer.

"What do you even see in him, Harry?" Ron demands, looking at him contemptuously. "He's just a pathetic, whiny boy."

"Ron, I _love_ him."

With his wand, he immediately stops the noise Draco is making.

"If you don't want him to get hurt, you'll let me have you," he explains gently.

I feel like my heart is being ripped apart in Ron's fingers. And the worst is, I'm not close to hating him.

"You have to stop playing this game. Remember how I would listen to you until you would feel better, even if it took hours?"

At this point I'm only pleading. I'm strung up on a bed, and I have no strength to use.

"It wasn't talking that made me feel better. It was you."

Ron looks at me imploringly, and I realize that the person I knew is gone.

"It doesn't matter," he whispers. "You don't have a choice."

He takes his bag and withdraws a vial from it.

"This time, I know better. I'm going to make you enjoy this."

He unstoppers it, and I see the swirling steam coming from it. No, it can't be-

"Amortentia," I say, alarmed. "How did you...?"

"Just drink it, alright? And I promise. The only pain Malfoy gets is from watching us."

Finally, I've reached my limit. The tears in my eyes overflow and streak down my face. Ron bends over me and gently wipes my face. As if I'm a child.

"D-Draco..." I quiver. What I would give to hold him right now...

"Relax," Ron says gently, pressing his hand gently on my shoulder. "Don't think of him. Don't make this difficult."

He cups my face and uses a finger to part my lips. I don't struggle, not even as he tips the bottle into my mouth. It's all over, anyway.

It crosses my mind that Ron has tasted this before, but I haven't. It's sweet, with a sharp edge. It's affection and passion in one. But it's still the vilest thing I've ever had. Because I know the potion will try to take me over. And that, I won't let happen. But I can already tell this magic is _strong_.

For the second time, I feel Ron kissing me. It doesn't feel the same. This is _wrong_, through and through.

Draco! I can only think of you, Draco. Will you ever forgive me now?

"I love you," I announce as Ron has left my lips to lavish the area under my ear.

At first I know I'm telling my boyfriend this. But doubt quickly sets in. And then...

"Ron, I love you."

What am I saying? No, this can't-

"I love you too," he replies, breathing heavily.

Now it's no longer a question. Ron Weasley owns me. Heart and soul, and I would run to the ends of the Earth for him. There has never been another.

A short spell from him makes both my ropes and our clothes disappear, and I delight in running my hands across his bare back and into his flame hair.  
I couldn't be more eager for this. Every touch from him feels otherworldly.

My mind is aware of someone curled up in the corner of the it doesn't quite register in me, and I'm not bothered in the least. There is only me, and Ron, on our little paradise island of a bed.

**_Draco's POV_**

I had perhaps a few bruises and broken ribs from hitting the wall, and then ropes were tightly tied all around me, and I thought that it was rather painful. Then the two Cruciatus Curses hit, and those were each the singular most excruciating moments of my life. I didn't think anything could hurt more, but soon I was proven to be ignorantly wrong.

I can barely move an inch as I watch Harry, hazy and possessed, being touched and touching in the most intimate way possible by a repulsive man. Hardly even a man, a monster. And to think that moments before, Harry was calling my name, counting on me to save him. And I failed. I would readily take another curse, or several, over this loathsome feeling.

The only thing sustaining me is the fact we're both still alive. And as long as that fact remains...

But I have succumbed to tears. Tears that can do nothing to help. Because besides the flicker of hope still burning within me, most of my will has been extinguished.

I fall into a state of strange semi-consciousness. I feel detached moment, but try as I might I can't escape the sounds of their pleasure, ever-increasing in volume. It seems to go on for an eternity of torture. I don't have a wand, and Ron silenced me powerfully this time. It's useless.

Eventually I hear their gasps and sighs of release, and I know Weasley's attention might turn on me. I have to strike quickly, despite the state I'm in.

A charm instinctively comes to me. Something that could help. I struggle and struggle to say it. I am spurred on by the sounds, by my fear, by my rage- and then I feel myself able to talk. _Slugulus Erecto_ slips right off my tongue in a whisper and-

I open my eyes to see Weasley choking and gagging and trying to stand up. Harry says something, concerned. But Ron collapses to the ground, bends over and vomits a bucketful of slugs. A good charm. But I don't have time to be satisfied.

"_Diffindo_!" I yell.

My ropes don't sever. Weasley is still coughing up slugs, but in seconds he might pull himself together and extract revenge on me. And then I know the only way.

"_S-sectemsempra,_"

I cast it as lightly as possible, but nothing can prepare me for the slice that goes through the rope and into my stomach. I howl. But the ropes loosen, and I pull them off before standing up, shakily.

I mutter Slugulus Erecto again, and another time. I don't know how the bloody hell I'm casting all these wand-less spells, but I am. I lurch across the room until I find my wand, which feels so soothing to be in my hand when I need it. Soon I'm pointing it at a pathetic Ron, writhing just like the slugs on the floor, Harry clutching him comfortingly.

"You're finished here," I mutter.

"Slugs and _sectemsempra_. Just like old times, Malfoy?" Weasley replies, holding his wand up at me, weakly.

He says but doesn't cast the curse, which makes me uncertain if he can.

"In fact, I would say, you're just a broken record," he continues, a smirk on his face. "Because some people never change."

In a way, this _is_ all too familiar. And I wish I could have kept past demons in the past- Weasley one of them. I would've liked to avoid the repercussions of my treatment of him, but I suppose I couldn't avoid it. And now what was once a despicable insect is now someone who is very much a threat to my entire life- But now safety is in my grasp. I am bruised and bloody, but am I on the verge of victory.

"I don't even care what you think of me at this point," I say coldly. "As long as you're aware I could wipe your ass in a duel any day."

I have only three advantages. Firstly, he's incompetent. Second, he just exhausted himself with Harry. Third, the sheer amount of slugs he's expelling is surely taking a toll on him.

It's difficult to not look at Harry, who is still holding Ron somewhat upright as he retches even more, whispering gentle words. Both are still nude, and I can't rip my attention away from the red marks all over Harry.

In my mind, I'm reviewing my options. And there is no easy path to take. I clutch my stomach, and my knees suddenly feel weak. Blood is spreading across my silk robe.

Weasley laughs spitefully at that. I see him levitate Harry's wand and return it to him. Harry clothes the two of them without a word.

"You won't last long, especially if Harry helps me."

Both manage to stand up, Ron still spewing the occasional slug. And it's at this point I accept the fact I might not make it out of this alive. And it's not like I want to die- but there are far more important things.

If Harry can escape from this, then I'll have lived a good life.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**_Ron's POV_**

After I lift my head from another bout of vomiting slugs, I'm smiling. Because I feel like is is all winding down. Malfoy's weak and he's bleeding. It'll be done soon, no doubt about it.

"Harry, babe," I drawl. "Take care of him, will you?"

I think it would be sweeter if Malfoy had to experience his lover hurting him.

He doesn't respond immediately, he just looks at me. What the hell?

"Ron... Why is Malfoy here?" he asks, confused. "Did something happen between you too?"

"He wants to hurt us. That's all that matters," I say flatly . I cough up a few more slugs.

"I don't want to hurt anybody," Malfoy replies defensively. "Harry, don't you remember I love you?"

Harry bites his lip.

"Er..." he says, clearly drawing a blank. It's satisfying. But I'm bored with this.

"Oh, bother. Just finish him off!" I bark. "Don't you love _me_?"

Harry casts something silently, and a jet of blue launches towards Malfoy, which he easily avoids. Harry releases another spell, and again Malfoy does nothing but defend himself. Harry seems calm, but his attacks are quick and continuous, and Draco has barely any time to react. Eventually, something hits him and he gets flipped in the air before falling to the ground. Harry then disarms him.

He walks towards him, and Malfoy doesn't move an inch. He's pretty injured and weakened at this point, but not fatally. I still love the expression on his face.

It seems like Harry's going to land the final blow, but he just stares at Draco, his wand ready to strike.

"Just kill him, please," I demand impatiently.

Harry still hesitates.

"Ron... We don't need to."

His sympathy for everyone is beautiful, really, but it's quite annoying right now.

"Fine then," I say, approaching. "Allow me."

I feel a rush as I realize this is the moment Malfoy goes right where he belongs- the grave.

"You put up a miserable fight, Malfoy," I whisper. "You couldn't even leave scratch either of us."

"What are you still waiting for, Weasley?" he asks, his voice croaky. "You don't have to drag this out. Just kill me. But..."

He breathes deeply. He's more scared than he's letting on.

"Last words, bitch," I spit.

"Just, I hope you make Harry happy," he says quietly. "Even if the only way you can do that is by controlling him."

I feel rage burning up inside me. I know Harry will love me, without Malfoy. He will learn to.

"Back up, Harry!" I warn.

I pictured it in my head seconds before saying it. Malfoy bursting in a massive burst of flame, leaving only his charred remains, blood splattering all over the walls.

"_Confringo_!" I scream.

The explosion happens as expected, and I hear myself laugh happily. But then, when the smoke clears, I see something is terribly wrong.

I see Harry standing in front of Malfoy, a sphere of light surrounding them both. At first, I don't understand what happened, but then I realize Harry jumped in front of me and erected a shield, a shield not strong enough to retain the entire blast. His arm-

Harry falls to his knees, clutching his shoulder, which no longer has an arm attached. Malfoy has managed to sit up, and he's in shock. No further damage has happened to him.

"No, no, no," I say, shaking my head uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, gasping for air. "But nothing you do will ever stop me from loving him."

"You remembered," Malfoy whispers, so I can barely hear.

"I couldn't let you die," Harry replies. He casts a Body-Bind Curse on me, and I trip, my limbs all forced together.

"This wasn't supposed to happen. It was a high dose of Amortentia," I say, almost to myself.

Harry waves his wand, cleaning both him and Malfoy of blood. He's an Auror, excellent at healing. But it doesn't make me feel any less _guilty_.

"We're going back to St. Mungo's, Ron. It's going to be alright."

"It's either me or him," I reply, my voice turning hollow. "You can only choose one of us."

"That's not true. But you have to give up now," he says gently, standing up.

"They'll lock me up! It's useless! I hurt you!"

I sound hysterical even to myself. But I can't help it. Everything was within reach, and I completely blew it. And there's no going back. In one spell, I ruined everything. It's all gone now!

"Malfoy, you win, okay? Harry, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I'm sorry!" I cry. I manage to free myself from the binding, and I stand up, my wand pressed firmly against my chest.

I don't regret anything. Sometimes, you just lose. And that's the end of it.

"Ron, wait-" Harry begins. He tries to disarm me.

"_Avada Kedavra._"

My spell hits before Harry's. I hear Malfoy yell something. And that's the last thing, before...

**_Harry's POV_**

"No!"

Draco crawls a short distance over to Ron's crumpled body, yelling.

"You idiot," he whispers. "You didn't have to die."

Nothing feels ever remotely real. I feel myself move closer to Draco before reaching out with my left arm and putting it on his shoulder.

"Draco..."

He turns around, and he looks at me with wide eyes. Like he's just fully realized that I'm here, that I'm myself again.

In one lightning-fast motion, he gathers me into his arms. It's a deep embrace, something we've done so many times... But this time, we need it. We need to know we're both alive.

I breath deeply, and then I just snap. I let go of him, and I slip further away.

"What's wrong?" he asks softly. I think he understands.

"We fucked," I say. I betrayed Draco. I feel disgusting. I feel mental. "I shouldn't touch you."

My eyes glance over at the corpse right beside us, Ron's eyes still staring glassily. I- I can't anymore.

"Harry," Draco pleads, inching towards me. Neither of us stand up, it feels like we're children playing a game.

He reaches for my hand, and it's then that I see Ministry officials appear into the room. Thank goodness. We're getting out of here.

I don't pay attention much to what's happening. The officials knew about the Unforgivable Curses that were cast, and they prove that it was Ron. They cart us away to the hospital, worried about my arm.

I don't feel right. I can't believe anything about this night isn't a dream. A long, very vivid dream. I don't even know what time it is now- is it morning yet? Did one arm really just explode off like that? Did Malfoy really have to see all that...

They put us in beds side by side in a small ward, give us potions, and it hurts. They give us something to fall asleep, and I feel myself drifting away. But I don't want to sleep.

I don't know what I'm feeling, but it's not good. I start crying, and for once I don't care how weak it is. I cry and bawl and don't stop. Because on the inside, I feel like I'm twisting and bending and ripping apart. Because I know this is real.

"It's over," Draco says to me, yawning. "It's going to stay with us for a long time, but we don't have to think about it now. We're safe now."

"I don't want to think about it," I reply, sniffling, my tears dying down from the sheer amount I've been crying.

I wish I could sleep next to Draco. But what he has to say always helps.

I have a little thing on my mind I want to bring up. I don't know what answer I want, but I go ahead.

"Hey... I was wondering... Before I fall asleep..."

"Yes?"

"Why didn't you- try to kill him?" I ask. At this point, I can't sugarcoat it.

Draco sighs.

"I probably should have."

What?!

"No, don't say that-"

"-But we're too alike, me and him."

It stuns me into silence, the way he says that so calmly.

"Why would you even think think that?" is all I can manage to say.

"I've been there," he explains vaguely. "I feel like I can understand him. He loved you, too."

"Not like you can," I say, and the tears are only back.

Draco smiles, and it's the most heartbreaking smile I've ever seen. Because it's so weak, but it's still happy...

"You're so strong, you're like a fucking angel," I whisper.

"_You're_ the one who saved my life a second time," he insists.

"But, you made me able to."

Draco closes his eyes. We can't fight the potion forever.

"I..."

He doesn't finish his sentence. But really, as I also start losing myself to sleep, I don't mind as much as I would normally. Because I know later he can finish.


	11. Chapter 11

**I hate ending stories. Because on one hand you're glad you actually managed to finish, but it's kind of depressing and really hard to write. And yeah, Chapter 10 wouldn't have been a bad place to stop. But I like tieing up loose ends, so here goes. **

.

**Chapter 11**

_**Draco's POV **_

Today is Ron Weasley's funeral.

His friends and relatives have gathered at the Burrow. Arthur Weasley actually still lives there, alone. The ceremony takes place at the foot of some grassy hill, and it's a beautiful summer day.

I figured I wouldn't be welcome, so I've hidden myself under the Invisibility Cloak, watching from nearby.

I listen, pained, to the sincere speeches from the people who knew him best, people who's lives were deeply touched by him and who miss them terribly. I see many tear-streaked faces, and even Hermione is among them. Harry is not, but he is agitated, his left arm twitching. The regrown arm that looks completely normal but Harry is not yet accustomed to.

It is now his turn to speak, and he has unique, touching words to deliver. But he and I know of the white lies he must say. Our most elaborate invention is the circumstances under which we witnessed his death. It was for the best, and I'm glad most everyone will only have to remember his best qualities. But such fabrications are never comfortable.

But I am proud of the lies, and I am proud of this event in general- me and Harry financed it in full, to not be a burden to the Weasley's. It has crossed my mind this might be strange, to arrange and attend a service in dedication to the man who did so much to hurt me.

But I want to be at peace with him. And perhaps, I want to pay my respects to such someone who suffered so much.

My thoughts begin to wander as I begin to remember a time much like this, another time of mourning, another time of feeling strong, vague emotions. Everyone was gathered in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, celebrating Voldemort's death, celebrating their survival, trying to celebrate lives.

I had slipped away to Hogwart's lake, and I sat down by the edge of the water. I skipped stones as I watched daybreak come. Thinking, clearing my mind. Trying to absorb the tranquility of the surroundings. But I was too frustrated, too confused.

After a time, I heard footsteps, but I hardly cared.

"Hey! Your parents are looking for you."

Harry's words punctured the silence, his flat tone creeping under my skin. I didn't want anyone there, much less him.

"And I'm sure they didn't ask you," I muttered, knowing full well who it was without looking.

"Well, they were asking around, if anyone had seen you. And I was walking out here," he replied, tiredly.

"Go away. You should never have helped me," I spat.

It would have been easier, for him and for me.

"And leave you to die?" he suggested quietly.

"Yes, you should have left me to die!" l yell.

I turned around to glare at him. His face was still placid.

"It's over, Malfoy. Go and do something useful with your life," he said. He was just as contemptuous as ever, but it was worse to no longer be considered a threat. I had never felt more worthless.

"Because _everyone_ can just save the world on a regular basis," I sneered.

In that moment, I hated the world, and I hated everyone in it.

Harry sighed.

"You're free to do whatever you want now. "

"I'm well aware of that," I stammered. "Everyone should stop treating me like a child!"

"It's up to you to grow up."

I wanted to lash out in all my frustration when he says that. But my throat closed up. Because he had a point, somehow. For the first time, I was able to make my own decisions. But I didn't want to accept that.

"You're a despicable human being, Potter."

A small smile crept up his lips.

"Well, then, I think I'm done here. I'll tell your parents I saw you."

"No," I said, rising to my feet. "Don't bother. I'm leaving."

"Leaving where?"

It's then I realized the strangeness of this conversation. Never have we talked so personally.

"Anywhere," I reply. "Bloody anywhere."

I looked at him, and... It only confirmed that there was no place for me here. Because I knew he was beautiful, I always had, and to say I hated myself for it would be a gross understatement.

"Good luck then," he said.

It was this last sentiment of goodwill that I couldn't handle most of all.

"T-thank you."

He was surprised to hear that, I could tell. But I don't bother saying goodbye before apparating out of there. And I couldn't have known it then, but that was the beginning of the craziest, most complicated time in my life. I've injected various substances, lived out in the wilderness alone for six months, gotten engaged to almost a complete stranger by the name of Pansy Parkinson, among other things. And it all led me here.

It all began then, seven years ago. Harry was the final piece of the puzzle; with him, I've lived the life I'd always wanted.

And then this tragedy came, more sudden than a flash of lightning. And we'll never forget, and we'll never be the same.

They're lowering the coffin into the grave now. It's ending. I don't think there's any more closure to be had then this. He ended up meaning more to me than he should. He was a fellow lost soul, really, except while I feel freed from my from delusion, he fell further into it. He lost rationality, he lost empathy, and in the end he lost any hope in living.

I wish no one's heart was that closed, no one's vision was that clouded. But...

Everyone gathers for a toast of firewhiskey, and then it's over.

Harry does not stay to talk to anybody. He begins walking away, and I rush to join him.

"Hey," I whisper into his ear, walking beside him.

He practically jumps, before collecting himself.

"Well, Draco, this is a role reversal," he says wryly. I think of how few others he's lent this cloak to, he must not be used to this.

I laugh. We're forcing ourselves to have a light mood, I can tell.

"Don't worry, I won't pelt you with snow," I assure him, thinking of that day in Hogsmeade. "But only because there isn't any."

"Hey, you deserved it."

We continue talking until we take the Portkey home. The same home as always, the one we thought we could never return to. But we decided to face it.

We go to our bedroom, intent on packing for our trip.

Which brings up the worst part of living here, which is the bed. We can only try our best. I sit down on it. A part of me is still afraid- the sounds still linger in my ears, and the pain of the curse returns like a familiar friend. And then I am glad he is dead. My hand claws into the mattress.

But I must not be resentful, I can't let myself sink to those depths. Why is this such a struggle, why is it always such a struggle?!

"Babe," I say, unable to keep my voice from catching.

"I know."

He sits down next to me, and cups my face in his strong but delicate hand. I remind myself of all the times with him, just him, on this bed.

"Today's not the best day," I comment vaguely, staring at the ceiling.

"No, it's not."

He leans into me, his arms surrounding me.

"You know, I'm almost excited to see your parents."

The new topic is a welcome distraction.

"You're not scared?"

"You said they accept you, didn't you? I'm sure they'll be fine as long as they don't find your, er, undergarments of choice," he teases.

I blush a similar colour to the tight briefs hiding beneath my clothes. My affinity for such things is not a secret I trust with anyone else.

"Oh, shut up. But why are you _excited_?" I ask.

"They invited us, which means they don't completely hate the idea of me. And..."

His gaze drifts away to the side.

"...It's the next step."

I chuckle softly, suddenly feeling elated.

"You can consider it that..."

We look at each other, and share the briefest of kisses.

"Harry, doesn't it feel kind of surreal? Me and my parents would've rather killed you than had you over for dinner."

He grins.

"Yeah, I think both of them are impostors."

I roll my eyes.

"The moment I told them I had seen you they asked if we were dating."

"What... How did they know?!"

Harry is amusingly flabbergasted by everything.

"Well, my mother told me that you ran to tell them I had left Hogwarts, and you were upset, and your behavior seemed, well, suspicious."

He shakes his head.

"They were just paranoid and had a lucky guess," he insists.

"Hmmm."

I take his hand, and look straight into his eyes, knowing there's something I have to say.

"Actually, _I_ don't think I knew then. But right now I know love you... And I never thought I could love someone this much."

Harry sighs happily.

"You should have known you could," he whispers, and he rocks me back and forth slowly.

I will never know how to thank him enough. I might be his first boyfriend, the one he calls "the man of his dreams"- but in a year Harry opened my heart, to love not only him but to love myself, including who I used to be.

My open heart is the most precious gift of all, one that Ron couldn't even touch, that nothing will ever be able to destroy.

I don't know yet how to forgive as Harry forgives. But I am more grateful than words could ever say, to have him here with me.

I want to wake up from every dream, always be freed from delusion. Except for this one.


End file.
